


We Three

by faorism



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: M/M, Polyamory, Post-Series, Sharing a Body
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-10
Updated: 2012-01-10
Packaged: 2017-10-29 07:51:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/317535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faorism/pseuds/faorism
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometime between the click of his belt unbuckling and the swell of the mattress around our bodies, I appear.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Three

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [kh_drabble](http://community.livejournal.com/kh_drabble/) ( _prompt_ : [237] carpe diem). Mention of past Axel/Roxas.

Sometime between the click of his belt unbuckling and the swell of the mattress around our bodies, I appear. It's no more sudden than any of my previous arrivals, but you'd no time to warn Riku. You let his affection distract you as I unknowingly crept closer and closer to the forefront of our mind until—bam, I wake to find Riku's weight pressed upon me, him thinking you're still _you_. Oh god, he's smiling against our neck, whispering those sweet somethings you are so fond of.

He's going to be upset when he realizes it's me on our bed tonight. _Tough day_ , he confessed as soon as you walked through the door. You didn't even have time to wash up or have a snack before you found yourself tumbling to the bedroom, you in his arms and him in yours. Spontaneous and sweet and—fuck, he wants _you_. He wants your compassion; your warmth—you. He will not find any of this tonight, of course, not with me here.

 _Roxas, it's not like that—_ No, it's exactly like that. I'm just a sick voyeur to your happy ever after. Actually, not even a voyeur. I'm even worse: an interruption. A thorn in your side. The poor guy in your head you can't help but pity because—

 _Stop it. Riku's going to—_

What, find out?

 _I'm serious. You don't—_

Shoulders lax even as I shove him away, Riku lets out a long, sterling sigh that curls around the worked-over skin on our neck. He glances up and catches my glare (I reflexively dilute the aquamarine of his eyes until I only see green), and a humble burst of recognition comes across his face.

He pauses for a beat, and based off of the slack-jawed expression across those thin lips of his, I expect him to spit some apathetic comment and get something to drink. Or I expect him to frown, roll off me, and go to sleep. Or... well, any number of things he's done before. But now... after pushing his bangs out of his eyes and behind his ears, he leans toward me. Kisses me as I growl, asking him what the fuck he thinks he's doing; if he realizes you know— _get away from me, Riku, or I'll shave all that pretty hair off your head_.

He responds by staring (...all I see is green). He smirks, and I feel you smiling to yourself—a reflection of his odd patience.

Then his half hazard touch runs down my arms, gripping onto my wrists, and you... stop watching.

Riku's lips are against my neck again. Up close, his hair smells like cigarettes—like smoke and ash—and I shiver. For months and months I've ached for it and—fuck—oh, god. It's right then that I realize why you bought him that first pack a week back.

It was for me, wasn't it?

…

You conspiring sons of—"Hey. I won't say the name of mine if you don't say the name of yours."

"I'm not promising you anything, asshole."


End file.
